A Very Boondock Christmas
by ShazzyZhang
Summary: Exactly what the name implies. Christmas with Connor, Murphy (and Blaise, non-romantic.) Humour, family, holiday wishes. Happy Christmas all. K because cussing.


_AN: Happy Christmas drabble set just before the first movie because I don't have booze to put in my eggnog, but I did get a crap ton of coffee. So we take the caffeine high and RIDE THIS MOTHER. :D _

_I own nothing, I tells you. NOTHING. But, my dear friend Kai Kiriyama ( .com and .com) has posted a deleted scene from her BDS3 spec that y'all should go and enjoy; and she pitches Boondock TV show ideas. She's a real writer, unlike me. :P _

_Anyway, Happy Christmas, and Happy everything. No matter what you celebrate._

_Slainté_

_-Shazzy_

**-A Very Boondock Christmas-**

The shuffling of fabric didn't register. The quiet pitter patter of bare feet against the hardwood didn't bother her. These were sounds that seemed relatively normal, even in her empty house. It wasn't until she felt the shifting of the mattress and the sudden press of warmth against her side that she was finally lulled from the first actual sleep she'd managed to get in weeks. She was curled up on her side, her back facing her bedroom door, the thick quilt pulled up to her chin, despite sleeping in flannel pyjama bottoms and a hoodie.

Slowly, Blaise opened her eyes.

"_Jesus Christ_!" She shouted in surprise.

"He _is_ the reason for the season." Murphy agreed, his happy go lucky grin plastered on his face as he peered down at Blaise.

Blaise groaned and rolled over. Connor had settled himself on the other side of her, the brothers successfully crowding her queen sized bed and boxing her in, trapping her under the quilts.

"Happy Christmas." Connor added, his own amused smirk crinkling his eyes.

The darkness in the room suggested that it was _barely_ Christmas.

"I swear, if it's before six..." Blaise warned.

"It's six-forty-five." Murphy assured her.

Blaise groaned again and pulled the blankets over her head.

"There was no heat in our apartment." Connor offered, as if that made up for their home invasion.

That was an unfortunate bit of information, as winter in Boston was not the most pleasant of things to experience without heat.

Blaise sniffled from under the quilts and tugged, forcing Murphy to shift his weight so that she could pull the quilts around her better. She draped the blankets over Murphy's lap and threw her arm back over her head, curling up on herself more, her back towards Connor.

"Fine, you can stay." She grumbled, pulling the hood of her sweatshirt over her head. "Just let me sleep."

"What?" Connor asked, in a mock hurt tone. "I'm no' allowed under the covers?"

"No." Blaise grumbled from somewhere among the quilts. "Your hands are probably freezing and you have a terrible habit of puttin' yer cold digits against the back of my neck, or the small o' my back." She rolled over to look up at Connor. "But you can go an' make coffee."

Murphy laughed at Blaise's outright dismissal of her favourite Saint. "That's not nice, where's your holiday spirit?" He teased.

"It stays away until the sun is up on Christmas morning." Blaise replied with a yawn. "And it disappears as soon as the sun sets."

Connor gave her his best puppy-dog eye look, which while adorable, was nowhere near as effective as Murphy's pout. With a sigh, Blaise tugged on the blankets to let Connor curl up as well.

"Will you please let me sleep now?" Blaise grumbled as she draped the blankets over Connor and rolled back over, unhappy with the invasion of her bed, even though this wasn't the most unusual thing they'd done. Or the first time they'd all ended up in the same bed. The point was that they'd woken her up from the first night of sleep she'd had in weeks. And they were blatantly unapologetic about it.

Connor and Murphy exchanged a look, debating the answer to the question.

"I dunno, Blaise." Murphy drawled. "You getting sleep is a rare occurrence on the best of days."

"I was sound asleep. It was a Christmas miracle until you ruined it." Blaise replied, burying her face further under the blankets.

"Well, you're awake now." Murphy pointed out, grinning like the Cheshire cat.

"No 'm not." Blaise grumbled.

Connor slipped his hands under the hem of Blaise's hoodie, pressing them against the small of her back. She hadn't been lying, he did have exceptionally cold hands.

Blaise screamed, cursing Connor's name and the MacManus family for five generations and Connor all but fell out of the bed as he high-tailed it out of the room and down the stairs, laughing maniacally all the way.

Blaise glared at Murphy. "Fuck you, I'm awake." She growled as she swung a halfhearted punch at him.

Murphy grinned and shrugged. "It's Christmas." He pointed out. "You cannae sleep it away."

Blaise grumbled and reluctantly climbed out of bed. She shooed Murphy out of her room and demanded that he make coffee while she got dressed. Murphy obliged.

'Getting dressed' simply meant pulling her hair back into a ponytail and changing into a different sweater, though after a moment, she relented and pulled her still-warm hoodie back on instead. Blaise opted to keep her pyjama bottoms on too, fully intending to go back to bed at the first chance she got, and slipped on a pair of slippers to stave off the cold of the hardwood floors.

By the time Blaise got downstairs, the brothers had managed to make coffee without killing one another and the small offering of store-bought baked goods that they had neglected to mention that they had brought were spread out on the familiar kitchen table.

"Mornin' Sunshine." Connor crooned, handing Blaise a mug of coffee.

Blaise huffed a sigh. She couldn't stay mad at the brothers, even if they were a pair of two-timing conniving bastards. They had brought doughnuts and cinnamon rolls for breakfast.

"Was there really no heat in your apartment?" Blaise asked once she'd gulped back half the mug of coffee.

"Yes." Connor assured her. "An' we didnae wake you 'til a proper hour, since you were sleepin' so soundly."

"We got 'ere at three." Murphy said with a shrug and a grin.

They were far too chipper for Blaise's tastes, it was barely seven.

The living room had a tree in the corner closest to the stairs, decorated in white lights and traditional red and gold baubles. That had been an interesting experience, inviting the MacManus brothers to decorate the tree, and Blaise was sure that she'd never do it again.

The gifts piled under the tree were specifically for Connor and Murphy, Blaise never wrapped her own gifts and she hadn't received any in the mail this season, thankfully. She'd been hoping for a quiet holiday, but the boys had other plans. Connor had offered to cook, and she'd declined, promising that they could come over for a family dinner on Christmas Day. And they'd shown up early.

"Why did you wake me, anyway?" Blaise asked.

"It's Christmas." Murphy reiterated with a cheeky grin. "We want our gifts."

Blaise stared incredulously from one brother to the other and shook her head. "Children, th' both of you, I swear." She muttered as she flopped down on the couch with a grunt.

She watched the brothers with undisguised amusement as they opened their gifts with unabashed glee, almost unwilling to believe what she was seeing. Each gift was met with sincere happiness and thanks, and arms thrown over her shoulders, and chaste kisses on her forehead and cheeks until she was laughing too hard at the spectacle.

"You're welcome. You're welcome." Is all that she could say as the brothers admired their shiny (and practical) gifts. She wouldn't have believed it if she hadn't seen it for herself.

Once all the gifts were opened, and the carnage of wrapping paper and ribbons was cleaned up, Connor and Murphy flopped down on the couch, one brother on either side of Blaise. Connor handed her a small box, wrapped up in simple paper and Murphy fidgeted next to her.

"Open it." Murphy said gleefully.

Carefully, Blaise unwrapped the little box, revealing it to be a black velvet jewelry store box as big as her hand. She eyed Connor questioningly, but he didn't betray anything with his blank stare of patience. Slowly, she opened the hinged lid of the box.

Inside was a rosary, similar to the ones the brothers wore, but obviously made for a woman as the beads and the cross were ornately carved. Blaise took it out of its box and slipped it over her head, stunned and speechless at the thoughtfulness of the gift.

"Because you didnae have one." Murphy said with a solemn nod.

"Happy Christmas." Connor added.


End file.
